


Take the Risk

by lionessvalenti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Professor Neville Longbottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 03:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: Neville's summer break at Hogwarts takes a turn when he starts an affair with Draco Malfoy.





	Take the Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [partypaprika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/gifts).

It was a week into the summer holiday, and Neville was hard at work. Classes and lessons plans were all well and good, and he enjoyed his first year as the Herbology teacher, but having the Hogwarts greenhouses all to himself was the best part of the job.

He sunk his hands into a pile of dirt and dumped the massive handful into a large pot. He did this a few more times until he was ready to transplant the seedlings. If all went well, they would be sprouting in time for his first years to harvest the beans.

This is what Neville loved. He could use magic to do a lot of this, but nothing compared to getting his hands dirty.

He heard the greenhouse door slam shut, but he didn't even so much as look over his shoulder. There were only so many people it could be now that the students were gone. 

"In a minute!" Neville called, gently patting the soil around the base of the plant.

Footsteps approached. "_Longbottom?_"

Neville spun around at the surprised tone in the unfamiliar voice. Except when he turned, he realized it wasn't unfamiliar at all. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

The question wasn't out of nowhere, since it was summer, and like Neville, Malfoy had finished school seven years prior.

Malfoy didn't respond right away. He was staring, mouth opened slightly, at Neville, like he'd never seen him before in his life. Maybe he'd been expecting Professor Sprout, or he was shocked at the sight of Muggles clothes on Hogwarts grounds.

Neville wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. He didn't think anything of wearing his robes in the greenhouse through most of the year, but it was July and the students were gone. He was wearing jeans with holes in the knees and a thin white t-shirt.

"Do you need something?" Neville tried again, but as he asked it, he realized it was a bit of a stupid question. Malfoy was clutching a wilting rosemallow plant in a pot, and the large flowers had seen better days. Everything was drooping and a bit dull.

Malfoy, broken out of his shocked stupor, stepped forward and set the pot on the table. "My mother plant is dying and she wanted me to have someone look at it. I thought Sprout..."

"Retired at the end of last year," Neville said. Despite his distaste for Malfoy, he couldn't resist a sick plant. He went to it, standing right next to Malfoy. He inspected the leaves, then touched his hands to the soil to feel for the roots.

"Well?" Malfoy asked. Sweat had begun to bead at his upper lip. He wasn't dressed for a greenhouse in July, wearing long-sleeved black robes embroidered with silver thread. It looked striking, but was hardly practical for summer.

Neville bit his tongue, wanting to snap that it would take more than ten seconds to diagnose a sick plant, but the issue was simple.

"Underfertilized," Neville said. "Get some dragon dung, then poke a few holes around the roots with your fingers -- gently, mind you -- and pack the dung in there. Then keep the soil damp. This soil is far too dry."

Malfoy blinked at him. "Isn't that something you could do? I could pay you."

"I don't want your money," Neville said without even thinking. He took a breath of the balmy air. "Don't you have house elves for that sort of thing?"

"No," Malfoy replied without further elaboration. He sighed. "How do I know where the roots are?"

This was standard stuff Neville was teaching twelve year olds, but he didn't say that. 

"You follow the line of the stalks. Feel the soil, like this." He grabbed Malfoy's impeccably clean hand with his own dirty one and pressed his fingers down onto the dirt. "Feel the resistance?"

"Uh huh," Malfoy said. He wasn't looking at the plant. He was staring at the side of Neville's head.

"That's the root." Neville released Malfoy's hand. "Make the holes just to the side of them. Four or five should be enough. You'll see the results in a few days."

"Good." Malfoy flicked the excess dirt from his fingers. "Thanks, Longbottom."

In all the time Neville had known Malfoy, he had never heard him thank _anyone_, unless it was laced with sarcasm. This seemed like oddly genuine gratitude.

"You're welcome," Neville replied, surprised. Even more surprising, he heard himself saying, "Stop by if you have any other questions."

Malfoy ducked his head and grabbed the pot from the table. "I will," he muttered and left the greenhouse without another word.

Alone, Neville went back to transplanting his seedlings.

* * *

When Neville took the job as Herbology professor at Hogwarts, he also got a small cottage near the edge of the grounds, by the greenhouses. It was only a few rooms with a garden out front, but it was his, and it was lovely.

He cleaned up the dirt he'd tracked into the house, and used a quick freezing spell on a few bottles of ale to cool them off. He'd been so focused on his first year as a teacher, he'd put off a lot of his socializing with his friends.Now that it was summer, he knew he had to make this a priority.

As Neville opened the windows to let in the evening breeze, he spotted Harry walking toward the house. He grinned and waved before going to the door.

"How're you doing, mate?" Neville asked, giving Harry a quick hug. "How's the Ministry treating you?"

"All right," Harry replied. "Keeping busy."

"Finding a lot of dark wizards out there?" Neville asked over his shoulder as they moved into the kitchen. He handed Harry one of the bottles. They didn't even sit down at the table, they just stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

He kept up on the news, but there was no denying that Hogwarts was a bit insular. And with Harry's relationship with the press, well, he wasn't one to give them any more information than they needed. He kept his Auror work close to the chest.

"I came on around the time it started to pick back up," Harry said. "First couple of years after Voldemort, everyone played straight, but now that time's passed, there's more activity. But it's a lot of secret meetings these days. We hear about them after they've happened, and we can't arrest anyone for being in a room. Even a suspicious room."

"Even if they're confirmed Death Eaters?"

"Officially, anyone who wasn't arrested after the war isn't considered a threat."

Neville thought briefly of Malfoy showing at the greenhouse. It wasn't worth mentioning. He didn't want to get Harry started on Malfoy. Even now, once Harry began to rant about Malfoy, it was an ongoing thing that never ended.

"Enough of that," Harry said at Neville's pause. "Your first year's done. What's Hogwarts like as a teacher?"

"Better than being a student," Neville replied brightly. "It's great. I get to talk about plants all day and live at Hogwarts. And I can head into Hogsmeade any weekend I want."

Harry laughed. "And you're staying on for the summer?"

"I was thinking about taking a holiday at the end of the month, maybe spend a week in London, but..." Neville didn't know how to explain to Harry that what he wanted was a quiet summer gardening. Harry liked a bit too much action for that.

"You'd rather garden," Harry finished for him.

"I'd rather garden," Neville agreed with a laugh. They knew each other far too well.

Harry was still smiling, but his face turned to something of concern. "And what about going out and meeting people? Like a girlfriend?"

"You sound like my grandmother," Neville said. He took another drink and added, "We don't all meet the person we're going to marry on our first day at Hogwarts, you know. I went on exactly one date when we were at school, and _you_ married her."

"I did, didn't I?" Harry laughed again. "Sorry, mate."

"Nah, it all worked out. I, uh..." Neville swallowed hard. Was he going to say this now? It seemed like such a natural time to bring it up, since they were already on the subject. "I never much fancied girls anyway."

Harry blinked at him for a moment. "Oh. _Oh_. How's, uh, that going? There's not... not a lot of options, are there? The wizarding community is pretty small in Britain."

Neville laughed. "Why do you think I stay here and garden?" he asked. "It's easier."

Surveying him over the bottle, Harry didn't laugh with him. "It's easier being alone?"

"Yeah," Neville mumbled. "I guess so."

* * *

Neville walked through Hogsmeade giving a wave occasionally to people who greeted him. He headed into the Hog's Head and greeted Aberforth. There wasn't much to a lunch menu at the Hog's Head, or much of any menu, but he could get a sausage roll and a beer and a change of scenery.

He sat at a table in the back with a quill and a notebook. The pub was never full, and most of the patrons went there specifically to be left alone to drink in peace. That was why annoyance flared up when someone spoke to him.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Neville was about to politely, but pointedly, decline, when he looked up to see Malfoy standing over him. It had been four days since the instance in the greenhouse, and Neville hadn't thought about it much since then. 

"A drink?" he repeated blankly, his annoyance fading as quickly as it had surfaced.

"You wouldn't let me pay you for the plant, so I could buy you a drink," Malfoy said.

Neville flipped his notebook closed and smiled. "You didn't owe me anything for the plant. I just wasn't going to do your work for you."

Malfoy's mouth pinched a little at the corners. "Well, it worked. The flowers looked better the next day. My mother's happy."

"Well, if your mother's happy," Neville replied, trying not to sound sarcastic. He meant it. Sort of. He tapped the side of his half empty glass. "And sure, you can buy me a drink. Another?"

"Sure." Malfoy went up to the bar, and a minute later, returned with two glasses. He sat down next to Neville. "Here."

Neville blinked at him. He was expecting Malfoy to drop the drink off, maybe to call them even, if he was bothered by having a favor done, but not for Malfoy to join him. "Do you think we're friends now?"

"No," Malfoy said immediately. He stood up. "I'll go."

There was something about his instant surrender, with no fighting, no snide remark that made Neville regret being so aggressive. "Wait, no, sit. I'm confused, that's all. What do you want?"

Malfoy hesitated, but sat down slowly. He considered Neville for a moment. "Do you ever wonder would it be like if we didn't meet everyone we were ever going to know when we're eleven?"

That was a bit of an exaggeration of the Hogwarts experience, Neville thought, but he sort of understood the sentiment. All of his colleagues had seen him as an awkward chubby little boy, who wasn't very confident with magic. No matter how much respect he could procure now, he always suspected they still saw him as the kid who couldn't turn a hedgehog into a pincushion.

But there was a difference between not being taken seriously at work and attempted murder.

"Do you think it would have made a difference if we'd met five years later?" Neville asked.

Malfoy snorted. "No. I was... you know how I was."

Neville nodded and finished off the last of his beer before pulling the one Malfoy had bought closer to him. He knew all too well. "What do you think would happen if we met now? That we'd be friends?"

With another pause of slow consideration, Malfoy leaned in closer, his hand resting on Neville's thigh. He was so close Neville could feel the warm breath against his ear as Malfoy murmured, "I don't want to be friends."

Neville's stomach jolted and he recoiled slightly, but not far enough away to be out of Malfoy's grasp. "Are you chatting me up?"

"I'm trying to," Malfoy replied. His hand was still on Neville's leg.

"_Why?_"

"Ever since I saw you the other day, all I can think about is sucking you off."

Neville stared at him. He'd been hit on before, but never quite so directly. It would have been easy to push Malfoy away, but Neville didn't do that. It almost felt like a dare to see if Neville would go through with it.

He thought about his fears that his fellow teachers seeing him as a kid making mistakes. It was easy to imagine Malfoy still seeing him as an easy target. The kid he could snag a Remebrall away from. Malfoy could be fucking with him, but there was only one way to find out: call him on it.

"Finish your beer," Neville said darkly.

Malfoy's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything as he took a long drink. His gaze never wavered from Neville.

Neville had never thought of Malfoy as attractive, or even unattractive. He never considered Malfoy that way. He was a nasty bully from the day they met until they fought on different sides of the war. But the war was over and Neville wouldn't be pushed around anymore.

Glasses empty, they moved toward the pub's exit. Neville caught Aberforth's eye and quickly pressed a finger to his own lips. Aberforth looked away, which was an agreement of silence if Neville saw one.

"Are we going back to yours?" Neville asked, once they were outside. It would have been easier if it was the evening, but as it was, his choices were in the bright sunlight.

"To my parents' place?" Malfoy made a face. "I don't think you want to do that. Your house is right over there."

"About as far from Hogsmeade as you can get on Hogwarts grounds. And we can't apparate there. There's no sneaking around."

"I don't mind. Let's start walking."

They walked not side-by-side, almost as if they just happened to be going in the same direction, but not together. They didn't speak, and Neville wondered if the moment was going to be gone by the time they got onto the Hogwarts grounds. There, at least, no one would be around.

When they were finally out of town, Malfoy was looking right ahead, chin raised determinedly. He had a nice jawline, Neville thought, now that he was thinking to look at it. Definitely not unattractive.

"So, you can't stop thinking about sucking me off," Neville said, a slow, cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Or was that a line?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Malfoy looked over and he smiled, too.

"It was a line, then."

With his next step, Malfoy moved closer to Neville, their hands brushing together. "Don't worry, Longbottom, I'm going to suck your cock. Isn't that what you want? Me down on my knees for you?"

"Merlin's beard, you're forward," Neville said. He didn't really mean to say it, but it came out anyway. He tended to babble a bit when he got turned on or nervous, and he was both at that moment.

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't like games. I'm sick of manipulations."

Neville raised his eyebrows. "Really."

"Really." He stopped in his tracks and grabbed Neville by the arm. "You don't have to like me. I don't expect you to. But you looked really good when I saw you the other day, and I'm not doing anything else this summer. So I thought I might do you instead."

"I _don't_ like you," Neville said, and he grabbed Malfoy around the back of the neck and kissed him.

Malfoy paused for a second, then leaned into the kiss. His arms wrapped around Neville and pulled him close, so their bodies were flush together. Neville could feel Malfoy's erection against his thigh. He slid his hand up and tugged on Malfoy's hair, eliciting a delicious moan. Malfoy pulled away, and his usually pale face was pink and blotchy with blush. He licked his lower lip, his eyes wide, gazing at Neville.

"Let's keep moving," Neville mumbled, and trudged forward. His cock was a throbbing weight between his legs.

There wasn't any stopping them when they finally reached the house. Once Neville fumbled the door open, Malfoy was on top of him. It was a flash of kissing, and Malfoy's hands pulling at the buttons down the front of Neville's robe.

"Take this off," Malfoy said, his mouth on Neville's neck.

"I'm trying," Neville said, but his fingers kept slipping. Finally, he wrenched open the top couple of buttons and pulled the whole thing up over his head. He tossed it aside, only dimly aware that he was in his underwear and trainers in the middle of his front room.

Malfoy's pushed him down onto the sofa, then knelt in front of him. His grey eyes were positively glowing with anticipation as he gazed up at Neville. "Ever thought we'd be here?"

Neville shook his head, and ruffled his fingers through Malfoy's hair. It looked better that way, not quite so perfect. "Suck my dick, Malfoy."

With a laugh, Malfoy pulled down the front of Neville's shorts and after studying the cock for a second, took it into his mouth.

Neville groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. He hadn't been with anyone since before he came to Hogwarts, and Malfoy's mouth was warm and wet, and certainly experienced. Neville thrust his hips upward and Malfoy made a gagging noise.

"Sorry," Neville muttered. He pushed his fingers into Malfoy's hair again, this time tightening his grip and tugging.

The noise Malfoy made wasn't a gag. Neville grinned.

"Like that, do you?"

Another affirmative moan, the sound vibrating around the girth of Neville's cock. Neville shuddered. 

"I don't want to give you a big head or anything, but you're good at this," Neville said. 

Malfoy looked up at him with a single raised eyebrow. It was so cheeky, Neville had to laugh. He scratched his short fingernails against Malfoy's scalp, and Malfoy actually gave Neville's prick a solid _suck_. It was Neville's turn to moan helplessly.

Sliding his hand up the inside of Neville's thigh, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his shorts, Malfoy brushed his fingers to Neville's balls, teasing the skin with his fingertips.

Surprised, Neville thrust upward again, but this time Malfoy was ready for him.

"I'm going to--" Neville said, losing himself in his building orgasm. He tried to keep his hips planted firmly to the sofa so if Malfoy wanted to pull off, he could, but Malfoy's lips stayed wrapped around Neville's dick. When Neville came, his cock was still buried deep in Malfoy's mouth.

Neville relaxed against the couch. "Oh, shit," he muttered, catching his breath. He reached his hand out to Malfoy and pulled him up onto the couch. The second Malfoy was seated next to him, Neville pulled him in for another kiss.

Malfoy lingered by Neville's face and smiled smugly. "Like that, huh?"

"Asshole," Neville said, pulling open one of the fasteners on Malfoy's robe. "Take this off."

"Here." Malfoy lifted his hips and rucking up the bottom of his robe and spread his legs to give Neville access.

It wasn't the most dignified, but Neville, whose cock hanging out the front of his underwear, wasn't one to talk. He shoved his hand down the front of Malfoy's shorts and grasped his dick. 

Malfoy leaned in, burying his face in Neville's neck, mouthing at the skin. Neville was definitely going to have a bruise when this was done. He shuddered as Neville worked his cock, and he came almost immediately, spilling hot and wet over Neville's fingers.

"That happened," Neville said, more to himself than to Malfoy, but he got a laugh out of Malfoy anyway. He pulled his hand out of Malfoy's shorts and wiped them off on his own underwear.

"I should go." Malfoy stood, carefully pulling his robes back down. He shot Neville a grin that actually appeared to be genuine. Neville had only ever seen him smirking, or laughing at other people's misfortune. He _was_ attractive, like this, at least. "I had fun, Longbottom."

"Malfoy, you--"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Neville blinked. "Right, yeah, I, uh, was going to say you should come back sometime. If you wanted. I could make dinner."

Malfoy took a step back. His smile was gone. "Sure. I'll think about it."

And like that, Malfoy was gone.

Neville got up and went to the window, watching Malfoy's retreating form. It felt like some sort of dream, a random afternoon blow job from one of the worst people Neville had ever personally known. And yet, it was nice.

"That really happened," Neville said to himself, then went back to find his clothes.

* * *

Neville didn't expect Malfoy didn't come back. The whole encounter had been so random it was surreal. It seemed like it happened to someone else, but it hadn't. It happened to Neville and he sort of enjoyed the sensation of having a secret tryst in the middle of the day with someone completely inappropriate. And it would never happen again.

When Malfoy showed up on Neville's doorstep two days later, Neville pulled him into the house without a second thought.

This time, they managed to make it to the bedroom before stripping out of their robes and underwear in between messy kisses. Malfoy fell back onto the bed and then turned over onto his stomach. He glanced over his shoulder at Neville.

"All right?"

Neville knew his eyes were wide as dinner plates. He was flexible on positions, but he wasn't expecting Malfoy to offer up his ass like that. "Yeah, that's all right." And after a quick lubrication spell, Neville didn't waste any time pushing into him.

In the messy desperation, neither one of them lasted long, but Neville had a very strong awareness that he now knew what Malfoy felt like wrapped around his cock. He knew what Malfoy's face looked like when he came.

Neville finally dropped down onto the bed and breathlessly asked, "So, that's that."

"Suppose so," Malfoy replied. He had taken a surprising amount of interest in the ceiling, staring up at it. A sheen of sweat coated Malfoy's skin, and he seemed to glow in the firelight. His hair was a mess from where Neville had grabbed it, and he held a bite of his lower lip between his teeth.

Yep, that was that.

Neville followed the line of Malfory's body to where the blankets covered him around his rib cage, until finally his gaze settled on the shadow where Malfoy kept his elbow nearly completely bent. It took a second before Neville even registered what he was seeing.

It was the Dark Mark. How in the hell had Neville shagged him and never noticed the bloody Dark Mark on his arm? The sex hadn't been _that_ good, had it? He thought about the first time they'd been together, how Malfoy had carefully kept his robes on, and even before then, how strange Neville thought it was that Malfoy wore such heavy robes in the summer.

Malfoy must have felt the stare, because he dropped his arm to the side of his body, out of Neville's sight.

"Sorry," Neville mumbled.

"It's fine," Malfoy said. He swallowed audibly, and his body went a little bit tense.

"I didn't mean to stare, I just -- I thought it went away. You know, when he did."

"Well, it didn't."

"Right. Sorry."

Malfoy turned his head, their faces so close together Nevile could feel the breath against his cheek. "Stop apologizing, Longbottom."

Neville frowned. "Isn't there something you could do? To get rid of it?"

"You think there's something I haven't tried?" Tension clung to his voice as the volume of his tone rose. "I've done it all. Glamours, curses, poultices. You're the herbologist, you know what undiluted bubotuber pus will do to skin. It came right back. This is dark magic. It's not leprechaun gold."

"No need to be patronizing," Neville muttered.

"Longbottom."

Nevile had never heard his surname sound so incredibly sultry. He turned to look, as Malfoy was leaning toward him. Neville willed himself not to look at the Dark Mark, and not to pull away as Malfoy's arm slid across Neville's stomach. He had the feeling it would only take a single flinch for Malfoy to never come back.

And as impossible as it sounded, Neville wanted him to come back.

Malfoy climbed atop Neville and kissed him slowly. It was a thorough kiss, like he wanted to be sure Neville remembered why he thought this was a good idea in the first place. Neville didn't have any doubts, but the kiss was definitely good.

Neville might have been in trouble, but he wasn't going to stop.

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Malfoy became a staple at Neville's house, and in his bed. And not only for sex. Malfoy started staying over at Neville's request, and Neville hadn't woken up next to someone in a long time.

"So, you've had a lot of lovers, then?" Malfoy asked, when Neville said something about it.

Neville laughed. He had his head resting on Malfoy's chest. "A lot might be a stretch. I lived in France for a couple of years working with a botanist--"

"What's that?"

"Oh, uh, it's like a Muggle herbologist." Neville didn't know what it was when he'd first heard the term either.

Malfoy snorted a laugh. "You worked for Muggles?"

Neville tried to ignore the trace of disdain in Malfoy's tone. "He was a Muggle-born wizard, but he worked in the Muggle field. More money, he said. But we were trying to see how much magic we could stretch into the plants without Muggles noticing. We did a lot of cross-breeding. It was educational. I learned loads from him."

"And you were lovers?"

"Oh, hell no. He was like my gran's age. His grandson, however..." Neville grinned up at Malfoy. "Learned a lot from him, too."

Malfoy chuckled and traced his fingers over Neville's forehead contemplatively. "And it didn't work out?"

"Mmm, no. It wasn't all that serious anyway. He stayed in France, I wanted to come back here. Hogwarts was always my goal. I kept up with Sprout, and she recommended me for the job. So I left him behind."

"Probably for the best."

Neville raised his eyebrows and he tilted his chin up to look Malfoy in the face. "Why? Because his grandfather was Muggle-born?"

Malfoy frowned. "I didn't say that."

"No, I guess you didn't."

"All I meant was, if you were with him, then we wouldn't be doing this."

Neville chewed at his lower lip. A strange thought had been nagging at him, and this seemed like as good of a time as any to bring it up. "Would you be interested in me if I wasn't pureblood?"

Malfoy blinked at him and pulled away. "What the hell kind of question is that? It doesn't -- it doesn't matter, Longbottom. I'm interested in you and you're pureblood. A hypothetical doesn't change anything."

"You've come a long way, that's all," Neville said, knowing he was backtracking. He instantly regretted asking it. "I just wondered."

"What do you want me to do? Go suck a hundred Muggle cocks so you know my intentions are pure. Or not pure, I don't know what you want."

It was Neville's turn to pause. "I'd quite like to see that, now that you mention it."

Malfoy laughed, though it was still strained. "Longbottom, you pervert."

"I'm sorry, I... I'm still getting used to this. Knowing everything I know about you."

"I'm getting used to it too. Knowing what I do about me," Malfoy leaned down and kissed him, but it was short. He lifted his head abruptly. "Is something burning?"

"Shit!" Neville pushed Malfoy away and ran to the kitchen where the oven was smoking. With his wand he extinguished the flames and then got the pan out of the oven.

"I can't believe you finally made me dinner," Malfoy said, laughing. He'd taken the time to put his shorts back on, but he wore nothing else. 

"You need to call first," Neville said. "I forgot it was there." He opened the window to let out the smoke and checked on what remained of his roast. It was pretty charred, but maybe could be salvaged with magic, but the vegetables were definitely wasted to nothing.

Malfoy's arm snaked around Neville's waist and pulled him back an inch so their bodies were flushed together, front to back. He kissed Neville's neck. "I'm not hungry, anyway."

Neville shivered. "How about something to drink?"

"Perfect." Malfoy dropped his hand and squeezed Neville's ass. "You should put on some clothes. It's dangerous to have your prick out near fire."

Neville's still flushed face turned a bit redder as he realized he was naked in his kitchen. He turned around, breaking out of Malfoy's hold. "There's some wine up in the cabinet," he said, and hurried back to the bedroom.

After putting on a dressing gown, Neville went back and found Malfoy in his front room, with a glass of wine in hand, inspecting the framed photos lined up on the mantle.

"Those your parents?" Malfoy asked.

Neville followed Malfoy's gaze to one of the pictures, the only photo he had of himself with his parents. They were smiling at the camera, his mother occasionally touching baby Neville's face before smiling over his father.

"That's them," Neville said. He stepped up next to Malfoy and smiled at the photograph. He didn't remember his parents like that: vibrant, happy, and full of life. But having the picture, he could imagine what it would have been like, growing up with them.

"They're still alive, right?" Malfoy asked softly.

It wasn't lost on Neville that Malfoy's aunt was the reason his parents spent his entire life in St. Mungo's. And he knew Malfoy knew that too.

"My mum is," Neville replied. "My dad died two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Malfoy mumbled, taking a sip of wine.

"It's not your fault."

He frowned. "Did you ever -- never mind."

Neville cocked his head to one side. "What is it?"

Malfoy made a face, like he was already regretting this. "You don't have to answer. Did you ever think it would have been easier if they were dead?"

Neville hesitated. When Malfoy opened his mouth again, maybe to apologize, Neville raised a hand to quiet him. "I guess... I never thought about it. They were there, and I couldn't reach them. They didn't even know who I was when I would visit. But after my dad died, it was empty, you know? I didn't get to know him, but there was something about knowing he was there."

"Sorry," Malfoy said, and he sounded genuinely apologetic.

"Stop apologizing, Malfoy." Neville smiled and stepped closer to him. He ran a hand through Malfoy's already mussed up hair. "It's not your fault."

Malfoy trembled. "If the situations were reversed, I'd hold it against you."

Neville shrugged. "I'm a better person than you are."

"You git," Malfoy said, but he was laughing. He kissed Neville, right at the corner of his mouth. "I'm better looking, you know."

"I don't know about that," Neville said, but silently he agreed. There was no reason to let Malfoy's head get any bigger than it already was. "You want to eat burnt roast and stay the night?"

Malfoy took another glance at the photographs. "You shouldn't trust me, Longbottom."

Neville swallowed. He'd been telling himself that already, but hearing Malfoy say it made him want to reject it right out. "I'll take my chances."

Malfoy took another drink. "You already burnt the roast, so we should eat it."

Slipping his hand around the back of Malfoy's neck, Neville pulled him close and kissed him. He tasted like elderflower. "Back to bed first," he mumbled against Malfoy's lips. Malfoy smiled and tugged at the tie on Neville's dressing gown.

"Yes, Professor."

* * *

Neville had just sat down with a book when there was a knock at the door. It was half past noon, and he wasn't expecting anyone. During the school year, anyone might stop by midday between classes, be it students or other teachers. The interruption actually made him smile.

He rose from his seat and went to open the door. He smiled. "Harry, what are you doing here?" Neville smiled as he stepped back to let Harry inside. "Come in. Would like a cup of tea?"

"Not today, sorry," Harry said as he walked into the house. "It's not a social call. I'm here for work."

"Is everything all right?" Neville asked. He motioned toward the kitchen table and they sat down across from each other. There were some fermenting ferns sat between them, and dirt across the table where he'd repotted them earlier that morning. It gave the kitchen a boozy smell.

Harry frowned. "Remember me telling you about the uptick in suspicious meetings of dark wizards?"

"I do, yes. You're seeing even more of it, then?" Neville asked warily.

"We are, yes. There was one this past Saturday I wanted to ask you about."

Neville blinked at him. "You don't think I was there, do you, Harry?"

For the first time since he'd walked inside, Harry laughed. "No, of course not. I wanted to ask you about Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Neville repeated. He knew the Aurors had eyes everywhere, but the idea that they knew something about his personal life was beyond strange.

"He's been hanging around the Hog's Head a lot lately, and I know you go there. He left with someone earlier in the week, but Aberforth said he didn't see who it was. Maybe you saw him there, or saw who he was with."

Neville tried not to smile. Malfoy had been hanging around to run into him, he had to have been. In addition to that, Aberforth was a way better friend that Neville thought since he knew for a fact Aberforth saw him leaving with Malfoy.

"Did someone tell you he was at the meeting?" Neville asked, knowing he was side-stepping the question.

"Just following leads," Harry replied.

"Mmm. Well, Harry, I know that Malfoy wasn't there."

Harry's posture changed, his back straightening and his shoulders going back. "Did you see him that night?"

"I did." Neville swallowed. "He was here. With me. All night."

If the situation had been any different, the sheer confusion on Harry's face would have been comical. Neville didn't prompt him, but waited for the penny to drop. When it did, Harry's eyes went huge behind his glasses.

"You and _Malfoy_?" he sputtered. He actually recoiled, his chair tipping back for a second.

"Yes."

"You're seeing Malfoy."

"It's..." Neville trailed off. _Was_ it just shagging? He thought of how relaxed he felt leaning against Malfoy's chest, or the way Malfoy would sometimes kiss his stomach for no reason. Neville nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Harry still looked a bit off balance, but being professional seemed to overtake. "And you were with him all night? In your sight?"

"Might have gone to the bathroom or something," Neville said. "But never long enough for him to go anywhere. He slept here all night."

"He could have apparated--"

"We're on Hogwarts grounds, Harry. You can't apparate."

"Right, right."

Harry looked so put out Neville decided not to inform him that if Malfoy _had_ gone anywhere, he would have been naked. Malfoy's robes were exactly where they'd been left before they went to bed.

"A time turner," Harry said, but he didn't sound like he'd convinced even himself of that one.

"Could be," Neville said faintly. Since they had destroyed the Ministry's stash of time turners a decade earlier, time turners were a rare find. Not unheard of, but rare. They took, quite predictably, a lot of time to make.

Without another line of thought, Harry stood up and started for the door, then stopped. "Do you trust him?"

Neville paused. He wanted to say yes, but the fact of the matter was, he'd only been seeing Malfoy for a few weeks, and he had years' worth of reasons not to trust him. He was perfectly aware of everything Malfoy had done. So, no, he didn't trust him. But...

"I'm willing to give him a chance," Neville said.

Harry frowned, but he nodded. "I hope that works out for you. I really do."

After Harry left, Neville couldn't focus on his book. He went out the greenhouses and did some work instead. Working with the plants could be meditative. He didn't even hear the door open when Malfoy arrived.

"Thought you might be out here," Malfoy said, and Neville accepted the offered kiss. He stepped back, however, when Malfoy went to deepen it.

"We need to talk," Neville said. "Harry stopped by today."

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the nearest table. He was trying to look casual, but there was such obvious discomfort in his position. "What did Potter want?" 

"He was asking about you, about some dark wizard meeting he thought you might have attended."

"Why would he be asking you? Does he know about us?"

Neville shrugged one shoulder. "He does now. He asked where you were on Saturday and you were here, so I told him that."

Malfoy's arms dropped to his side. "You told him?"

"You weren't there and I knew that. I wasn't going to lie." Neville was aware of naive that must have sounded to Malfoy, but he didn't care. He didn't make a habit of lying, and he wasn't afraid to tell Harry truths he didn't want to hear.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched. "Is that all there is, then?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Did you know about that meeting?"

"Did I know about that one specifically? No. Do I hear about them? Yes. Have I been to them? Yeah, a couple. It's a bunch of sad wizards moaning about the good old days, and those days were terrible. There's nothing to miss. I'm glad we lost. We wanted out -- my whole family wanted out. By the end, everything we did was to survive."

Neville swallowed. "You said I shouldn't trust you."

Malfoy dropped his shoulders. "People don't change, Longbottom. I can fool myself into thinking I can, but I've got dark magic branded into my skin. The next time some power hungry wizard rises into power, I'll probably follow right after him."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But you can't trust that it won't happen."

A slow smile spread across Neville's face as closed the gap between them. He wrapped a hand around Malfoy's left wrist. "I'll take my chances."

"You're an idiot," Malfoy replied, and kissed him.

Neville wrapped an arm around Malfoy's waist and pulled him close. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was a start.


End file.
